friendship

This little blog

ghostwritermummy2.jpg
There was a little blog

with a very little voice

Sitting in a corner

wanting to make noise.

 

And this little blog

Was a scared little thing

Wasn’t quite sure

she was ready to sing.

 

But the story within

had to come out

She needed to sing

she needed to shout

 

So she sat and she spoke

and one day received word

It wasn’t a joke!

Her voice had been heard!

 

And the words started to spill

and soon wouldn’t stop

She wanted to sing until

her heart went pop!

 

The years flew by

and the little blog saw

she wasn’t so shy

and now wanted more.

 

The little blog made friends

shared moments and tears

a shoulder to lend

and whispered her fears

 

She started to see

what her words could do

she started to read

lots of other blogs too.

 

And then one day

she felt she was sure

she had more to say

she wanted much more

 

The little blog began

to gather her thoughts

and hatched a plan

for her diary of sorts

 

She thanked the stars

that shined up above

for letting her do

the thing that she loved

 

And she thanked all of those

who continued to read-

she just hopes they know

she always believed.

 

Ghostwritermummy began as a diary of sorts. It was my therapy after my son was born and I was struggling to accept what had happened to us. It is so much more today. The path that this little blog has taken has been thanks to all who read it and all who I read too. So thank you. 

MAD Blog Awards

If you are planning to nominate any blogs in the Mad Blog Awards this year, please consider some in this list below. If you decide to nominate me, I will be forever grateful.

Edspire

Stay at Home Mum Loving It

HollyBobbs

Waterbirthplease

All at Sea

Unique and Chic

Mum’s The Word

The MotherGeek

Red Rose Mummy

This Day I Love

Hello Its Gemma

Honest Mum

The Boy and Me

Imagination Tree

Simply Hayley

Smiles and Trials

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

12 Comments

When a friend falls apart

At first, you feel shock. Massive, gut wrenching, pull your heart up into your throat shock. You don’t believe the words you are seeing, or hearing. You don’t know what to do with the information that a baby is dead. A friend’s baby. A baby you saw on Facebook the day before- happy, smiling and dribbling. Then relief. As you think of your own baby, asleep upstairs. Asleep. Then huge, deep, leg shaking relief when you pluck your warm baby from her bed and yes! she is sleeping, only sleeping.

And then.

bubblesAnd then. Then guilt. Guilt follows relief. Because your baby is alive and your friend’s baby is not. Because you were relieved that your baby is alive, and breathing and warm and real. Guilt because you no longer know how to look at your baby without feeling so lucky and so so so relieved.

And then what? And then you are lost. In a world where pain and hurt and anger and death is all around you and you don’t quite know what to do or what to say or how to say what you think you want to say. And in the end, maybe you just need to say something. Maybe you just need to be there.

Almost eight months ago, my world was a whole lot more simpler than it is today. That is not your fault; that is just how it is.

Eight months ago, I didn’t have a friend who’s baby died.

I don’t walk in your shoes, I walk beside you. If you want me to.

I don’t know, I can’t know. And I am sorry about that.

For you

If I say the wrong thing- and often I worry constantly that that is what I am doing- then please know that I am sorry. There is no rule book out there that tells you what to say or how to say it when a friend tells you her world is falling apart. There are no words to pluck from previous conversations to guide you through the torment of watching a person you care about float to the ground in tatters.

Sometimes, you want to scream and cry and shout and be angry and you think you can’t but you can. You think you’re not strong, or brave or inspirational. The people that tell you that you are, are all people like me. They are not bereaved mothers. They don’t know.  But they truly believe those things about you; those claims that you dismiss as wrong. They do not know that you aren’t strong; you’re simply existing in a world that has been created for you, despite you, in spite of you. They want you to know that they would not even be able to rise from their beds if they had to face what you face each day… but then how would they ever know that is true?

When a friend’s baby dies, the world goes a little wonky, and sometimes you stumble a little. Sometimes you fall. But you get up again. Because it’s your friend. It’s a friendship that is so important to you and because you want to help. You care. You grieve too. You stumble, but you keep going. Beside her.

 

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